white trash

You know your at a white trash bar when the Karaoke book is comprised of only white singers.  I was at a dive bar in Kansas City last night and after hearing my third Kenny Rogers song, I decided I needed to show every one what a good song was.  Unfortunately, I stick to singing songs sung by black artists, because lets face it, black people make better music, and the only black artist they had was Aretha Fraklin.  They did have a "New Music" selection which was two pieces of paper filled with songs by Rihanna and Destineys Child.  I didn't end up singing Kareoke but I did end up dancing like a hooker for a bunch of bar dwelling white men.  I figured if I couldn't show everyone how to sing, I could show them how to dance. 
Typically when I go Kareokeing, I wait until someone sings a song I can sing better, and then sing it right after them to assert my whimsical voice and also to make them feel terrible for not being as good as I am.  It's pathetic I know, but it gets me by.  I've been known to do this in many other aspects of my life, for instance, in painting classes I've always made it a point to befriend the worst artist in the class, in order to assure dominance.  They always ask for my advice on how to exicute their piece of crap paintings and I always give it to them in a condecending way.  "Maybe instead of painting with a brush you should try painting with your fingers, because you seem to have difficulty controlling the bristles. Finger painting is a highly respectable means of fine art." I might say while they obsorbe my awful advice and put it into practice. 
Looking back on all the relationships I've had with lovers, it's safe to say that I do this romantically as well.  I don't go for the put togeather guy with a job and no chemical dependancy issues.  Instead I go for the guy who can't pay his rent, needs me, and drinks everyday to forget his past.  For a long time I've wondered, "why do I attract these types of men?" in a self loathing, pittying way.  I'm starting to accept that maybe it's because I'm an ass hole and need to be better than my lover, becuase competition is not really my strong suit.  When I was 18 I was dating a 26 year old who lived in a cocain den.  I moved in with him a week into our relatoinship, and I quickly became his mother and lover.  He would cry sometimes about how big of a looser he was, and I would comfort him and coach him on how to become better, usually with one hand comforting his back and the other hand holding a glass filled with vodka and disolved sleeping pills.  I knew it was hypocritical, but I was in college, there for on the right track, where as he was serving tables and chasing his dream of going back to hair school.  As far as I was concerned I was way better off than him and he needed my help.  It was fullfilling for a little while until I became an actual parent to him and began lecturing him while he puked up four pitchers of beer on our carpet I HAD JUST HAD STEAM CLEANED!    It was unhealthy to say the least.  I became addicted to taking care of him and pushing him to achieve his goals, thinking that if I could make him have aspirations, I would get them for myself to.  Whet ended up happening was that I got sucked down into a heavy depresion and lost all aspiration and respect for myself, so much so, that I dropped out of college to take on the full time job of our relationship.  I also began a pretty radical addiction to NyQuil night time cough syrup.